


Tumblr ficlets

by rthecynic



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Character Death, I am so sorry for this, There is death, This isn't happy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-12 05:37:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7922527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rthecynic/pseuds/rthecynic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just a collection of short ficlets from my tumblr. There'll be various scenarios, relationships etc, but I suppose they'll mostly be e/R centric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Grantaire makes the ultimate sacrifice

They were standing, hands clasped tightly, staring down the barrels of the guns. Enjolras had a small smile on his face, Grantaire looked resolute. Enjolras braced himself, resigned to his fate. He assumed Grantaire was too. He’d placed himself here after all, in front of the guns. An innocent man, yet unwilling to let Enjolras die alone. The tension in the room was palpable. Any second now…

“Wait!”

A cry rang out in the room and the soldiers lowered their weapons. Looking towards the door, Enjolras saw the imposing figure of the traitor – Inspector Javert he believes Gavroche called him – and frowned.

“This one is the leader of this band,” Javert explained, pointing at Enjolras, “I want to take him and extract information. We need to know who is in charge of this whole operation.”

The head of the National Guard nodded, allowing Javert to step forward and grab Enjolras by the arm, pulling him towards the door.

“What about this one?” 

Javert turned to look briefly at Grantaire.

“Kill him.”

A flash of terror flickered through Enjolras’ eyes, but he forced himself to regain his composure.

“Don’t.” His voice still contained an edge of control, a commanding presence even in the hopelessness of the situation. “There is no point. He is an innocent man. He had nothing to do with any of this. He was never one of us, just a drunken fool who thought he could save our lives."

He didn’t need to look at Grantaire to see the hurt in his eyes. Forcing the words from his mouth was difficult, but he had to do something to save the man he had perhaps begun to love.

But he did see Javert’s smirk.

“Bring him.”

And Enjolras felt his heart sink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Javert tried bargaining first, telling Enjolras that Grantaire would be released as soon as he revealed the name of the leader of their revolution. Enjolras tried insisting that Grantaire meant nothing to him. Though it pained him, he truly believed that it was the other’s best chance. If they thought that Grantaire had no leverage over him, they’d have no use for him and they’d let him go. So he kept his mouth shut other than words of disdain against the cynic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One day Enjolras found himself being taken to a different room and sat down in an uncomfortable wooden chair, held there fast by rope. Moments later, a door across the room slammed open and, speechless, he watched two guards manhandling Grantaire into the room, the raven screaming about how Enjolras would never betray the revolution for his sake, that Enjolras held no love for him and never had. He did not even seem aware of Enjolras’ presence. 

Enjolras flinched as Grantaire was forcibly laid down and tied to a table in the middle of the room. Finding his voice again, he yelled Grantaire’s name. Grantaire stilled and whispered, “Enjolras.”

The cynic let out a nervous laugh, trying to appear brave. But he still screamed as a knife was scraped across his bare skin. And Enjolras screamed too.

“It’s me! I’m the leader, it’s me! I swear!”

But they didn’t believe him. He was too young they said. He may be enough to lead a small group of the revolutionaries, but he could never have put this whole revolution together. 

He repeated it over and over, determined to get through to them, to stop Grantaire’s pain. But no-one would listen and he couldn’t do anything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They put them in adjoining cells that night. Enjolras sobbed, guilt wracking his body, clutching Grantaire’s hand through the bars. He kept insisting to Grantaire that he loved him, that he’d been trying to save his life. Every action had been to save his life. And Grantaire comforted him as best he could. It was all a little backwards, but neither of them cared. They both knew that Enjolras could do no more; he’d spoken the truth and he hadn’t been believed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once Enjolras had fallen asleep, Grantaire asked for a private audience with Inspector Javert. His request was granted and he was taken to an office. He stood in front of the desk and spoke with a determination he’d never known in his life.

“If I give you the name of the leader, will you let him go?”

“The golden boy?”

“Yes.”

Javert leaned over the desk, his chin rested on steepled fingers, intrigued. 

“Your golden boy will have his freedom. Go on.” 

Grantaire sighed and whispered, “It was me.”

Javert stared at him incredulously.

“I-I know Enjolras told you that I had nothing to do with the revolution,” Grantaire continued, “But he’s loyal, too loyal. He even gave his own name to protect me from torture. He was willing to give his own life to preserve mine, so that the revolution could go on. But I won’t let him do that anymore. You know I care for him. I won’t let him go through that torture anymore. He’ll be no threat. You said yourself, without their leader guiding them, the revolutionaries will fall apart. I know this. Get rid of me, and your problems are over.”

Javert pursed his lips.

“Very well. You die in the morning. The golden boy will watch you die, as a lesson to him, and then he will be released.”

“Do I get a final request?”

“Very well.”

“Let me spend my last night with him. I need to convince him to let this go.”

Javert nodded and Grantaire was taken back to the cells, thrown in with Enjolras, who was still sleeping fitfully. He composed himself and gently shook the blond awake.

“Enjolras?”

Enjolras blinked awake and sleepily asked, “What are you doing here?”

“W-We need to talk.”

Grantaire helped Enjolras to sit up against a wall and moved to kneel in front of him. He took Enjolras’ hands in his.

“They’re going to let you go,” the raven whispered, forcing a smile. Enjolras’ eyes widened. With shock? Horror? Anger?

“R… What did you do?”

“I-I…” Grantaire choked back a sob, “I bargained for your freedom. I told them I was the leader.”

“W-What…?!”

“I had to,” Grantaire insisted, “The revolution needs you. They think it’s over. You have the element of surprise. They’re going to let you go. You can still do this. Take some more time, get more of Paris on your side. Don’t be hasty. I believe in you Apollo.”

He paused, screwing his eyes shut.

“I-I die in the morning. They’re going to make you watch. N-No! Don’t cry Apollo!”

He rubbed his thumbs across Enjolras’ cheekbones, wiping away the tears that were starting to fall.

“It’s ok. I-I’m prepared for this. I’m not afraid. J-Just, please, think of me kindly. I’ll think of you.”

Enjolras nodded. All words choked in his throat. There was nothing he could do now, and Grantaire had a point. But the thought of not having him there, it made him feel hollow. He surged forward on impulse, his lips pressing against Grantaire’s. He just knew he had to do it once, before it was too late.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Enjolras was frogmarched out to the platform alongside Grantaire in the morning. He was not shackled, or restrained in any way like the raven was. Once this was over, he was free to go. Grantaire was giving him reassuring smiles the whole time. Really, it should have been the other way around.

He was hardly even aware of the sentence being read out, he was only focused on Grantaire, staring blankly out at the gathered crowd. Then Grantaire was being forced to his knees and Enjolras was being held back as the guillotine was fastened in place. 

The blade fell…


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Grantaire takes Gavroche's place on the ammo run at dawn.

“Enjolras! We’re out of ammunition Enjolras!”

A blond head turned towards Feuilly’s frantic call. He pushed through the throngs of people to the redhead’s side.

“What do you mean?!”

“Exactly what I said! We have no ammunition! What do we do?”

Everyone was crowing them now, eyes trained on their leader. 

Enjolras looked around at the faces of all of his friends, and finally he started to see that this revolution might not turn out as he’d hoped. They’d need a miracle now. And that miracle seemed to be coming in the form of the Pontmercy boy as he pushed his way forward.

“I’ll climb the barricade. Bodies are littering the streets, there must be plenty of ammunition out there.”

As he turned away towards the barricade, Enjolras reached out to grab his wrist. As much as he’d wanted this rebellion to succeed, he wouldn’t let this young boy throw his life away on what was practically a suicide mission. And deep down he knew that he had to try his best to get Marius out alive. He only wanted to be here because of lost love and Enjolras didn’t want those who didn’t believe to die for the Cause. Why should they? They had lives to lead, and he couldn’t deprive them of that.

“It’s too dangerous Marius, I can’t let you!”

“It’s dangerous for anyone, and somebody has to go or we’ll be slaughtered!”

Before Enjolras could answer, the old man who had saved his life pushed his way to their sides.

“You’re only a boy Marius! I’ll go. I’m old, death will come for me soon anyway.”

Enjolras nodded, extending his hand for the old man to shake.

“Thank you monsieur, we are forever gratefu-“

“No! Grantaire! What are you doing?!”

Enjolras’ head shot up, just in time to see a mop of black curls disappearing over the top of the barricade.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grantaire dropped down into the street, no longer able to hear the muffled cries of his friends behind the barricade. If anybody was risking their life, it had to be him. He was the most expendable, and he had to at least give his friends a fighting chance. 

He had to give _him_ a fighting chance…

He picked his way through the bodies, checking pockets and rifles for spare bullets, gathering them in the pocket of his jacket. He could hear footsteps approaching, but he didn’t have nearly enough. He had to keep going.

He could hear his friends again now, cries that sounded a lot further away than they actually were. They must have climbed the barricade, must be watching him. He wished they wouldn’t. Then they would feel obliged to mourn him. 

He ignored the cries, continuing to scavenge for any spare ammunition he could find. His pockets were getting heavy. Good. That was a good sign. Maybe he’d finally done something useful.

The footsteps were getting closer. How much longer did he have?

Then one cry finally caught his full attention. He couldn’t ignore that voice, never could.

“Enjolras…”

The leader’s name was no more than a breath on his lips, whispered almost like a prayer, and he turned back, no longer aware of his surroundings as he saw the blond staring at him with such intensity that he’d never seen before. There was…something… in his eyes, something that Grantaire couldn’t quite place.

Suddenly, Enjolras’ eyes widened and his mouth started to form words, as if everything was in slow motion. Still, Grantaire couldn’t react quickly enough. He turned around, and suddenly pain was exploding through him and he was on the ground, hand pressed to his stomach, warm liquid seeping through his fingers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Look out!”

Enjolras’ cry was one of desperation, but it had come too late. It only served to make Grantaire spin around, taking the bullet in the front instead of the back.

“No!"

He scrambled over the top of the barricade and took Grantaire’s body into his arms.

“En…jol…ras…”

The raven’s voice was raspy, almost inaudible.

“I’m here Grantaire. I’m going to get you somewhere safe.”

He turned, and his friends had opened the side entrance to the barricade, allowing him to quickly get them back through to friendly territory.

“Jacket…” Grantaire rasped, turning his head to Feuilly. Feuilly shook his head. That didn’t matter now.

“Joly, Combeferre, with me!”

Enjolras looked around frantically for the two medical students. They would help Grantaire. They would!

But when he met Joly’s gaze, he knew that he was wrong. The young medic shook his head, tears in his eyes. Combeferre looked strained, as if he felt guilty for not being able to do something. Enjolras looked down at the man cradled in his arms, and Grantaire just looked resigned. He reached with a trembling hand to grasp the lapels of the crimson waistcoat Enjolras was wearing.

“Don’t… leave… me…”

Grantaire’s eyes were clear, and full of terror. And yet, there was something hopeful in them too. It suddenly hit Enjolras like a truck. Grantaire always looked at him with such hope and adoration, even though his mouth preached otherwise. Even now, when he was dying because of him, he still looked at Enjolras with those eyes, as if he wanted his approval.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered as he slid his back down the wall of the Musain, sitting himself on the ground with Grantaire’s head cradled in his lap, “I’m right here. You were so brave Grantaire. Stupid, but brave.”

A small smile found its way onto Grantaire’s face as his eyes fluttered closed and he let out a soft sigh.

“No! Stay with me Grantaire!”

Enjolras realised his voice was shaking, his entire body was trembling, but he couldn’t find it within himself to care.

Grantaire managed to open his eyes and reach up a hand to stroke Enjolras’ cheek, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

“Oh… I got blood on your face…” he paused and looked down, “Well… at least nobody will see the stains on your vest…”

“Now is not the time for this Grantaire!” 

Enjolras knew it really wasn’t the time for raising his voice at the other man either, but he couldn’t help himself. Tears were flowing freely down his cheeks and he hardly even noticed. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t the strong leader that everybody here was counting on. And yet, faced with the sight of Grantaire bleeding out in his arms, he didn’t want to be anyone other than this, a comfort to a fallen friend.

“Why did you even do this?! It was so stupid! Surely you knew…”

He was practically sobbing now, and Grantaire frowned, wiping away a tear from his cheek.

“I did it because… I believe in you Enjolras…”

Enjolras looked up at this, meeting Grantaire’s gaze with his own.

“Y-You…what?”

“I believe in you… I always have… I-If anyone can change the world…”

A cough racked his body, his hand covered in fresh blood when he took it away from his mouth again. His entire form was shaking, the world was becoming blurry. He groped for Enjolras’ hand, and gripped it tightly. Enjolras returned the gesture.

“Shh… Shh…”

Enjolras was soothing him, and it was so unusual, something he’d never imagined the fiery blond to be capable of. This sensitive and caring side of Enjolras was so rarely seen, and Grantaire could hardly believe that he was the cause of it.

“Monsieur Enjolras…” he managed another small smile, “I-I do believe I was… a little bit… in love…”

As he spoke, he started to lean upwards, his voice a quiet whisper, free hand clasping the back of Enjolras’ neck. He wasn’t able to complete his sentence, as Enjolras took the hint and leaned down to meet him. A soft press of lips. A first and final act of kindness and acceptance. 

When Enjolras pulled away, Grantaire’s head lolled back and his body fell limp in the blond’s arms. All Enjolras could do was cradle the limp body and sob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one isn't happy either, oops. I guess I just love angst too much.
> 
> I'm rthecynic on tumblr. Come say hi, or drop me ideas for short fics.


	3. Chapter 3

When Enjolras was nine, a new family moved in next door. There were no other children his age in the area, so he was excited to see that the family had brought a little boy with them. He went with his mother to drop off a welcome gift, and whilst the women were talking, Enjolras and the new boy went into the back garden to play.

“I’m Enjolras,” he introduced himself, sticking out a hand, “What’s your name?”

“Grantaire,” the new boy replied, taking his hand nervously.

“We’re going to be best friends!” Enjolras announced and Grantaire smiled.

They spent their days together after that, playing in each others’ gardens or going down to the lake. They built a tree house in the forest and it became their secret place.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Enjolras was ten when Grantaire called him Apollo for the first time.

“Apollo?” Enjolras questioned as they lay on the bank of the lake, drying off in the afternoon sun, “Why Apollo?”

“Like the sun god in Greek mythology,” Grantaire shrugged, “My mum teaches me those stories. She’s from Greece you know.”

“But why call me that?”

“Because your hair is golden like the sun,” Grantaire teased, pulling at Enjolras’ hair.

And it just became habit after that. It became a name that Grantaire used frequently and Enjolras just accepted.

They began to play pretend. Grantaire had never been taught any of the fairy tales that most children at school had been raised on, so Enjolras taught him instead. And they decided it would be fun to play pretend at Rapunzel. Enjolras was the beautiful prince trapped in a tower and Grantaire was a brave knight sent to rescue him.

So Enjolras sat in the tree house, laughing as Grantaire battled imaginary witches and dragons on his way to the ‘tower’. And as he reached the top, he reached his hand into the tree house and said;

“I am here to rescue you Apollo. Do you permit it?”

And Enjolras laughed and took Grantaire’s hand and soon they were rolling around together in the grass, seeing who could reach the bottom of the hill first.

~*~*~*~*~*~

When Enjolras was eleven, Grantaire’s family moved back to Greece to stay with his ailing grandmother. And Enjolras was lonely again. Even though the family had said they would be returning to France, it wouldn’t be to the same area, and Enjolras was certain that he’d never see Grantaire again.

~*~*~*~*~*~

When Enjolras was fifteen, he was involved in an accident. He recovered fully, apart from his memory. He knew nothing of his life before the incident, and no amount of prompting would bring it back.

~*~*~*~*~*~

When Enjolras was twenty one, he formed Les Amis d’ABC with his friends from university, Combeferre and Courfeyrac. It was his passion. Three nights a week, they would meet in the Café Musain and plan their revolution.

But there was one man who came along to the meetings that Enjolras just couldn’t seem to understand. Grantaire would sit in a corner and drink the night away, scornfully tearing apart his arguments and ridicule him as “the mighty Apollo”.

Something about the name irked him and made him respond in a much more irrational way than he normally would. And he had no idea why.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Enjolras was only twenty two when he found himself cornered by guards, muskets aimed at his heart. His life had been short, but he did not fear to die. He only regretted that he had never found the one thing that had always seemed to be missing.

Then Grantaire was beside him, this man who believed in nothing, and he was holding out his hand.

“Do you permit it?”

And Enjolras remembered. And he smiled, squeezing Grantaire’s hand.

He’d found it.

He could die in peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this is just a little ficlet that I did on tumblr from an ask prompt of "childhood best friends au", but it's something that I'm considering expanding into an actual story if anyone would be interested?
> 
> I'm rthecynic on tumblr. Come say hi ^-^

**Author's Note:**

> I plan for this to be a collection of short fics, and I might start with things that I've posted on my tumblr, but if anyone has requests for a short fic, then I'm more than happy to give them a go :)
> 
> I'm rthecynic on tumblr. Come say hi ^^


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